Ever Searching, Ever Striving
by GloriaNewt
Summary: Brief little one-shot. The inner thoughts and musings of Hecketty Broomhead as she arrives for the Of-Witch inspection... Please R&R and make my day!


A lone figure perched stiffly on an elderly broomstick swooped low above the dark, deciduous forest, her black cloak billowing behind her in a gloomy cloud as she executed a precise, neat turn and slowly descended until her leather boot-clad feet touched the springy floor of the forest, the soft texture of rotting organic material releasing a characteristic musty stench into the frosty autumnal air as the witch made a textbook landing.

She sniffed briefly, clearing her throat with a fussy little cough and dabbed at the tip of her beaked nose with a lace handkerchief before casting a keen look up at the awaiting towers of Cackles Academy. The corners of her thin mouth twitched in anticipation as she licked her lips almost hungrily, tasting the delicious scent of the vengeance that awaited her before casting a sharp look down at the watch that adorned her slender wrist. She would proceed on foot. Punctuality was of the essence. Providing advance warning of her presence would merely lessen the impact of her timely arrival, and she wanted to extract every possible ounce of sweet vengeance from this chance reunion, the sadistic delight of seeing the fear etched into every line upon that alabaster face.

Fate had dealt her the twisted hand that she required and she knew that she had the power and influence to enjoy the luxury of toying a little with her chosen prey before devouring the cornered wretch- a cat teasing a petrified mouse with its bared claws, watching the shudder of fear run through the trapped prey as its blood turned to ice. She was filled with delight at the prospect of being able to extort a few more moments of exquisite fear and subservience from her unfortunate opponent before destroying the constructed defences that others had tried to build, diving with one mighty sweep of her quill, one signature enough to shatter the protective cage that had been built around her target, finally leaving her raw, exposed and alone.

Fate had indeed been kind to her, thought Hecketty Broomhead as she strode confidently through Walkers Gate, her high-heels rapping a death-knell upon the cobbled courtyard, her swift stride echoing uneasily amidst the surrounding hush of the abandoned surroundings. Much as she bemoaned the demise of many of the old magical schools- her heart secretly leapt with joy at the prospect of assessment. Her chance to scrutinise, analyse and delve into the deepest workings of a school, pulling apart the very fabric of the institution and taking the greatest delight in removing the stain of embarrassment and chaos presented by any sub-standard establishment from the pure tapestry of magical heritage. Orderliness and accuracy were her standard-bearers, and woe betide anyone who fell short of her demanding levels of perfection. Removal of Guild Approved Status was her favourite method of despatching such schools. Nothing else would suffice.

She had already decided that she was going to bring Cackle's Academy to its knees in front of her. Its fate rested entirely in her vengeful hands, and she revelled in the giddying power that came with the managing of that fateful decision. Of course the school was going to close… but not until she had extracted every ounce of spirit from it, leeching out the elements of disorder and chaos which had governed the failing institution, sweeping in masterfully with the devastating logic and order which she so favoured.

She had positively leapt at the chance to personally examine the suspicious happenings at Cackles Academy- her aged heart jumping to a mild rush of staccato excitement as her cold, pale eyes swept briskly across the list of unfamiliar names from the vast charter of magical institutions in imminent danger of an OfWitch inspection, pausing to widen in disbelieving joy at the appearance of the words "_C. Hardbroom, Deputy Headmistress," _written in the miniscule sloping hand of her colleague beneath the title "Cackles Academy". A witch that had eluded her for quite some considerable amount of time. She had smiled softly, leaning back in her wooden chair, baring a faint glimpse of needle-sharp teeth- her scalding flow of diatribe stemmed abruptly in the midst of her furious address to her fellow educational council members, the feared woman silenced, momentarily drifting off into a blissful daydream, ignoring the concerned interjections of her colleagues as she contemplated the long-awaited possibilities that had suddenly been presented to her.

There was nothing that Hecketty Broomhead hated more than unfinished business.

"Got you…." She had hissed triumphantly beneath her breath, her hands balling into fists, large grey eyes wide and staring, giving her the demented expression of a woman possessed- a humourless snort of mirth escaping from her as she drew a heavy line in ruby ink beneath the institution's name, stabbing at the page with such vehemence that she snapped the end of her quill, scattering little bloodstains of liquid across the parchment.

"I've found you at last…"

The rush of adrenaline in her elderly veins, the ecstasy of the chase- the discovery had been beyond her wildest dreams- the chance meeting, the rekindling of the old strength that she had once wielded. Her hand trembled with sadistic glee, anticipation prickling away like static electricity beneath her papery grey skin as she raised a bony fist to the stout wooden door of the castle, a smart rap that echoed resonantly throughout the chamber beyond.

She was so close, she could almost _smell_ her prey now….

Hecketty shivered faintly in the cold. She didn't know what it was about Constance Hardbroom that drew her to her attention- Envy? Greed? Desire?

A seething mass of emotional tensions rose within her whenever she was confronted with the powerful sorceress, a desire to _possess_- a deep-seated fanatical yearn to _own_, to _control_. _Her Constance. _

Constance had been her star pupil, a compliant, talented young student with a thirst for knowledge which served her well throughout her years at college, but her talent was initially tainted with the imperfections of carelessness and inaccuracy- traits which were nothing bar unacceptable crimes to the Mistress of control and order. Never mind, she had told herself…. It hadn't taken much to break Constance…. to bend her to her will…. no matter what the personal cost had been… her potential had been realised and pushed forward. Nothing but perfection would do… She had dedicated her life to Constance's development, honing and crafting her little protégée, the most powerful witch of her generation. Nothing had been too great a personal sacrifice to see Constance improve… no act too far to ensure that her virtuoso was refined and enhanced, _her Constance._ _Perfect little Constance Hardbroom. _Her fixation had only grown as the years had passed, watching on in demented pride and criticism as the young woman had developed and blossomed.

And then, she shuddered with anger at the memory of that fateful summer's afternoon, her eyes glinting with fury, the day that came when the ungrateful little harlot had repaid her years of devotion by escaping from her care. When she had been _stolen_ from her. The betrayal had torn deeply into her heart, venomous wrath rising within her at the loss of her most valued asset, all pride and trust shattered, her beloved Constance now lost, a figure of hatred, the one that had eluded her….

A shiver of delight ran through her, magic sparking faintly at her fingertips as the heavy oak door swung slowly open. Retribution would be exquisitely sweet; for however hard she may try, Constance Hardbroom would not evade her for a second time.

She would be hers once more.

**A/N: *waves and offers cookies* Hello there- I'm back! After a long and demanding term at university and some rather difficult times for my family, I have finally managed to find enough inspiration to dust off my doodle pad and get writing again! Thanks to everyone who has been there for me in the past few months, especially the lovely Dissecting Pomegranates, who has been a constant source of strength for me- thank you so much my dear :)**

**Please review and make my day, and thank you so much for taking the time to read this little one-shot! **

**Gloria xx **


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